Turn the Corner
by volatile.virgin
Summary: The moment he stepped out, away from the comfort of his love, he could tell that it was an odd sort of day. Slash. Snittery. Mod. Strange.


Snitch left the apartment, left his lover in front of a television with some ramen noodles, with the intention of clearing his mind. Thoughts swarmed relentlessly in his mind, plaguing him, setting him into a distanced and morose mood. Detesting this with all of his might, he went for walks to rid himself of the mind attacks. 

The moment he stepped out, away from the comfort of his love,  
(the only other one in the city he could stand, he thought)  
He could tell that it was an odd sort of day.

There are times, he mused, when a person just gets far too caught up in the area directly surrounding him. He walked down the empty sidewalk on his hands, feet in the air for birds to land and catch a ride.

_The whole city, he knew  
Was blank, blank, blank  
Full of empty souls  
And fighting hearts_

The sidewalk took a sharp turn to the left, and around the corner it suddenly became

Black and white, but--

He kept walking, as if unaware of the stark change. He himself turned bright orange, stopping

People in the street as  
He walked by.  
As always,  
He didn't  
Know

Where the hell he was going. On his daily stroll through Central Park, he had decided to take a different route. He forgot to alert his boyfriend

(Skittery)

(was his name-o)

To the fact that he was even leaving their tiny apartment,  
forgot to kiss the sweet ends  
Of his messy brown hair goodbye,.

And upon the detour,

(of which he felt no control,)  
(yet somehow he did not mind,)

He discovered that he should have told his boyfriend.  
Because, though he never got too worried anyway,  
That just might be the day  
That he would panic,  
for Snitch  
Would

disappear.

The sky shone bright with stars, but the buildings became stark and cartoonish, as if they were simply sketches. Though the people were still real-looking, only black and white, the buildings were nothing but outlines. But Snitch kept walking, still on his hands, still carrying birds on the bottoms of his feet, still contemplating the meaning of his life.

He felt rather pathetic, in truth, rather trite, because he wanted nothing but love and sharing for the world. He felt naïve, idealistic, foolish. Just because you found love, he told himself, in a beautiful boy, Snitch, does not mean that everyone else will find such a love. It does not mean that the world will automatically change for you and your dreams.

(had this been so, he added,)  
(they would have let you two get married)  
(instead of worrying about being compassionate)

As he was drowned in thought,  
He nearly tripped over a woman

(who was quite old)  
(and bright orange, just as he)

Who was just barely able to walk  
And eyed him with milky eyes.

_This woman, he knew  
Was old, old, old  
Full of osteoporosis  
And sullen words_

She saw him even though she was blind;;;  
She watched his every move as he stammered  
A confused, embarrassed apology.

She said,

_I can see that you are not blind  
Like all of the others;  
You are just like me.  
For, though I cannot see with my eyes,  
I can see with my heart.  
You, who call yourself a dreamer  
When you lay awake in a sleeping lover's arms,  
Can see far more  
Than anyone who you would call  
Realistic._

Shocked, he babbled an incoherent response. How could a woman, an old woman who only barely had to bend to speak directly into his face, know just what he was thinking? Was he dreaming? Was it fate?

He gathered the courage to reply to her innocent but disarming face,

_How are you so wise  
That you can read my mind?  
Do you have  
Superpowers  
Of some sort?_

In reply,

_You are but a boy,  
But you have lost  
Most  
Of your innocence already.  
Yet I can see a tiny  
Stream of hope  
In your eyes  
And I know, from your stance,  
That your lover is the same._

He pressed,

_You have not answered my question._

She replied, after a pause,

_It is not just my age  
That has made me so wise.  
I was once a girl  
Who thought she was just a foolish dreamer,  
Yet I followed  
What my heart told me._

_Many think I am a preacher,  
A witch,  
A fool  
When I say that,  
Yet I swear upon your life  
That it is the truth._

Strangely, he found that his instincts trusted this woman, although every part of his mind screamed that she was insane, and he for wanting to trust her. He asked of her,

_How may I reach my goal?_

Said she,

_I do not know  
What it is you wish to do.  
So I cannot tell you how to  
Achieve it._

_Youth is the answer;  
Once you grow older,  
You will wither away and die :_

With those final words, she died before his eyes, collapsing in the middle of the sidewalk. He looked around to ask for help, frantic and confused, yet when he called for help, not one person acknowledged his presence. When he returned his gaze to her, he could not believe his eyes. Her corpse had ceased to stay in its bodily form; it was reduced to nothing but a pile of ash. He watched it expectantly, half waiting for her to rise like a phoenix from her remains.

But the ashes stayed cold, and blew away with a gust of wind.

(so she was human, after all)

Snitch, instead of feeling shock, remorse, sadness, or confusion, felt an overall since of peace and calm. The wind that had been howling in his heart for weeks died down.

He marched home to find his lover. To tell Skittery of the day's events.

He marched home to find his heart.

* * *

A very strange, unedited one shot. And to think, no mind-altering substances were involved...  
**Additional note:** Fanfiction dot net does not allow me to format this the way it was meant to be formatted. The more adequate version is in my PNU blog (philosophy dot nu slash volatile).  



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